


Shotgun

by michmak



Series: The Little Things [30]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michmak/pseuds/michmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're tellin' me my little mei-mei won't keep her hands to herself and is intent on destroying your virtue?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shotgun

He was wearin' his Pa's best suit – a brown worsted wool that was a good three inches too short in the legs, and strainin' along the seams 'a the jacket. He had a hard time believin' he'd actually managed to get the damn thing on; wouldn't be wearin' it at all if he weren't bein' forced at gunpoint. His Pa didn't have boots big enough to fit him so he got to keep his own on, but gorram – he felt like a right idjit. Looked it too.

Seemed to him the whole town 'a Prospero was waitin' at the church when he had arrived; cheerin' and yellin' good-naturedly at him. "Well, ain't that somethin'," Doc Breckin had chuckled, "never seen anything like that 'afore!"

The collar 'a his shirt was too ruttin' tight. He ran a finger around the inside 'a it, tryin' to loosen it and wondered if his Ma would actually shoot him if'n he undid the top button and removed the bolo tie. He didn't think she would shoot to kill – he was still recuperatin' from almost bein' crushed by the mule – but she might put a bullet through a part 'a him she considered non-essential, and right now that could very well be his man-bits. He swallowed nervously, but kept the shirt done up tight.

"This really necessary, Ma?" he muttered again, as she jabbed him in the back with her gun. Considerin' his whole body still ached and he couldn't stand straight yet, he thought she was bein' a mite unreasonable.

"Yep," his Ma replied sternly. "After what ya done, this is very necessary. I won't have the whole settlement sayin' I ain't raised ya right. Ya been enjoyin' that little girl plenty and I don't cotton to it, Jayne. I raised ya better'n that and she ain't a whore. She's a fancy girl with a Doc for a brother and you're marryin' her before ya leave Prospero tomorrow and that's that. Ain't no son 'a mine livin' in sin."

"Ma, doncha think River should have some say in this? She's only eighteen. Maybe she ain't ready ta get married yet."

"If she's ready for sexin', she's ready for marryin'. 'Sides, it could be another twenty-years before ya come back to visit. I aim to see ya married proper, baby, and that's that. Wouldn't do to have no little illegitimate Cobbs runnin' around the universe."

"Ma!"

"Jayne!"

The big Merc scowled at her and slowly made his way to the front 'a the church.

If Simon hadn't given him permission to leave the ship, none 'a this woulda happened. But Jayne'd been itchin' to go somewhere. He was sick 'a bein' penned up on Serenity and his little Crazy-girl and all her sponge-bath givin' was drivin' him bonkers.

He'd begged Doc to give him leave and Simon musta seen the desperation on his face, because he'd caved rather easily. "Don't over do it," he'd warned. "Nothing that will over-exert you. No fighting, or anything like that. Perhaps I should ask River to accompany you?"

"Wo de ma, no!" Jayne had replied. "I need to get away from her for a little while."

"What…" Simon had begun angrily, but Jayne had interrupted him.

"She's drivin' me crazy, Doc. I know you're her brother and perhaps I shouldn't be sayin' this, but I can't take havin' her around me all the time without…without…well, ya know. Them sponge baths 'a hers are killin' me, and I promised ya I'd take things slow with her and even if I wanted ta…ya know…and I do wanna – I couldn't because everythin' still hurts too damn much."

Doc had looked at him in amazement at that, before laughin' in his face. "You're telling me my little mei-mei won't keep her hands to herself and is intent on destroying your virtue?"

Jayne scowled at him, "And that's funny why? I'm tryin' to do the right thin' here…'a course, I could just go find her right now and do what I've been dyin' to do to her for months now. It might kill me, but I'd go out with a smile."

Simon wiped his eyes and grinned at the larger man. "Tell me why I thought you were wrong for my sister, again? I seem to have forgotten."

Jayne rolled his eyes, "'Cause I'm old enough to be her daddy and I'm mean and I'm a mercenary and I tried to sell ya both to the Alliance?"

"Right." The younger man clapped him gingerly on the shoulder. "Go on, get going. Never let it be said that I contributed to your death."

"Ya won't tell River I'm gone?"

Simon shook his head, "I won't, but she'll figure it out soon enough. Don't be surprised when she shows up."

He hadn't thought his escape plan through very well.

He'd thought an actual honest to goodness bath would be a good idea, especially one that didn't involve her hands roamin' all over his body, but he'd forgotten how far the dockin' cave was from Town Square. There was a good half-mile trek through the tunnels before he even reached the Digger carts, and everyone he ran into along the way wanted to have a chat. By the time he climbed inta one 'a the carts, he'd already been on his feet almost an hour which was about 50 minutes longer than he'd done since he'd been hurt.

The ride inta town had reminded him all over again why he hated Prospero so much. The carts were damn shaky enough, but all that rattlin' on top 'a his slowly mendin' ribs was agony. He was surprised he hadn't passed out on the two mile ride down and was glad he hadn't had to man the brakes this time, 'cause no one in any 'a the carts woulda survived the crash.

The walk across the square weren't no better. In fact, it was worse. Every part 'a his body wanted to just collapse, but there were a lot more people here than in the dockin' bay and it seemed everyone wanted to congratulate him and slap him on the back and say stupid things to him. "Always knew ya was a strong one," they'd say. "Told yer Ma you'd turn out to be a good man."

Every time he stopped he weren't sure if'n he'd be able to get goin' again. He needed momentum to keep movin' or he was purt-sure his knees would just give out from underneath him and he'd end up face down in the dirt. Which would lead to another River sponge bath, which would lead to all manner 'a interestin' things designed to drive him right 'round the bend.

It was with considerable relief he finally reached his destination.

He'd always loved the bath house as a kid. The hot spring-fed baths were all manners a relaxin'. Gertie, the proprietess, smiled at him kindly when he hobbled in.

"Why, Jayne Cobb!" she said, "Ain't it good to see you up and about. I was just tellin' your mechanic when she was here the other day that a nice hot sulphur and salt bath would be just the thing for ya."

"Ya got one 'a them private ones available?" Jayne asked tiredly. "I don't really feel like the public baths today; need some privacy."

"Sure thing, Jayne," Gertie replied. "Ya look plumb tuckered out. Room six ain't go no one in it – here's the key. Shampoo and soap and the like should be in the cabinet."

Jayne limped down the hallway to the room in question, dropped his clothes and sunk into the hot water up to his neck. The baths weren't really baths – more like big holes cut into the ground with smooth rock ledges to sit on, so he din't have to climb into anythin', which was a relief.

Restin' his head with a sigh on the ledge 'a the bath, he closed his eyes and let heat slide inta him. The water pushed around him gently, cushionin' his sore body and makin' him feel like he was floatin'. He remembered feelin' like that in the sand too, as it had tried to suck him inta the sink hole and felt a momentary twinge 'a panic before he relaxed again. Weren't nothin' dangerous in the baths.

He ran a hand easily over his chest and abdomen, feelin' the fresh pucker 'a new scars, where the Doc had had to open him up to repair his lung and spleen. Simon had done his usual fine job with the stitches and his little Crazy-girl has taken to rubbin' that smelly unguent 'a Inara's inta them, despite his protests. She said nothin' would make him smell like flowers because he smelled too much like Jayne and then she'd kiss him on the lips or on his chest or wrap her still slick hands around him and he'd forget what he had been complainin' about. 'Sides, her hands gently rubbin' against his scars were like ten types 'a heaven, so he din't mind too much.

She was gettin' better too, mostly sayin' me and I all the time now, 'ceptin' when things got really intense. She tended to slip when things was hot and heavy between them – or rather, when she was makin' him sweat and lurch against her hand, hissin' against the pleasure/pain as she made him explode.

The first time she'd slipped like that, he'd looked at her but had been too far gone to stop what she was doin' to him. Afterwards, she'd kissed his scars and answered his unspoken questions, "I feel what you feel and I feel what I feel and sometimes it's too much. My Jayne-bird is intense and his pleasure is my pleasure, dong ma?"

"Ya mean ya know exactly what you're doin' to me when ya touch me like that? Ya get all my emotions and all 'a your emotions in your head at the same time?"

She'd nodded dreamily at him, "Feels like fire; pressure from the inside and out; flying higher and higher and exploding across the 'verse. Feels so good, Jayne-bird. Feels so good."

Even just thinkin' about it, in the bath with her no where around him makes him groan. Just knowin' that she feels everythin' she does to him makes his blood flow hot through his body. He wants to show her how good it will be when he's actually inside her – fingers, tongue, cock – how good it will feel for her and for him when she's wrapped around him, slidin' her way to bliss.

A hand trails across his abdomen that ain't his and he slits an eye open lazily.

"Found you," she whispers. He hadn't heard her come in, but the sight 'a her bare white shoulders above the water makes him forget why he was tryin' to get away from her in the first place.

"Been thinkin' about ya," he murmurs.

Her hand drifts lower and she gives him a squeeze. "So I see," she agrees softly.

The water is hot and buoyant and her hair is floatin' around her like a mermaids. He lifts a hand to trace her clavicle, dippin' his fingers into the shadow between her breasts, before slidin' lower and cuppin' one. He rubs a thumb over her nipple and watches her close her eyes and shudder. He ain't touched her a whole lot yet – ain't even seen her naked, really – and he's thinkin' maybe that's gonna change.

His free hand reaches over to twine through her hair, circlin' the back 'a her head as he pulls her closer. With a sigh, he helps her set facin' him, her lithe legs straddlin' either side 'a his thighs. He pulls her forward until he can feel her bare breasts rubbin' against his chest and the cradle 'a her thighs pressed hot against him. He closes his eyes and hisses in pleasure, a sound she mimics as she drops her head back. Her nipples rub like brands across his skin.

He feels like he's floatin' again and nothin' hurts. Most parts 'a him are totally relaxed and the one that ain't – he don't want it to be. He grips the smooth skin around her waist and lifts her easily to her knees so he can look at her. Her pale skin is flushed and wet from the heat and the water and arousal. Her breasts are tiny and perfect, with little nipples standin' all proud and pink like raspberries. When he drops his head to taste one, she bucks against his stomach and gasps.

"Feels good, don't it, Crazy-girl," he growls against her. "Tastes good too." He licks across one and then the other, before drawin' his teeth gently across her skin. "Gonna taste every inch 'a ya."

"Jayne," she stutters out. He grins at her. "Lean back and let yourself float. I ain't strong enough yet to hold ya without the water supportin' ya." His mouth moves across her sternum and down to her exposed belly-button, dippin' into the cave 'a it and lappin' at the water that's pooled there. His hands slide against her thighs, partin' them gently, as he tips her hips toward him. One 'a his fingers slides against her heat and she moans again.

"Look at you," he whispers against the inside 'a her thigh. "All shiny and new. Feel like it's my birthday and Christmas all rolled inta one." His whiskers brush against her tender skin and she moans again. Her hands are behind her now, supportin' herself against the ledge on the other side 'a the bath and her eyes are burnin' black, like coal. He frees a hand and rubs the pad 'a his thumb against her peak, growlin' at the heat. "Want ya so bad, Crazy."

"Please…" she moans.

His tongue follows the path his thumb had made, and even through the taste 'a salt and sulphur he can taste somethin' uniquely her. He licks again. "Tastes so good, baby."

Her thighs are flutterin' against the side 'a his head and she is slicker than oil. "Ya feel me? Ya feelin' how good this is for me; how much I love doin' this for ya?"

"Jayne…" she stutters again, "Please fill her."

"Fill who, little butterfly," he murmurs against her clit, teasin'.

"Me," she gasps, "This girl needs to be filled."

He doesn't give in to her demands right away. Instead, he shows her with his fingers and tongue the secrets 'a her body. The water flows around them like a cushion, her waters flow around him like a river. Finally, when he don't think he can stand it no more – when he knows his girl is gonna die if'n he ain't inside her, he slides her down his chest and glides inta her core. She stiffens against him for a moment and he can feel her tight around him. She is keenin' his name now and he holds her still until they can both adjust to the feel 'a bein' together.

"Gorram, Crazy," he whispers against her ear, "feels better than breathin'."

He don't think no more after that, can only feel the grippin' 'a her body as it swims against his; the way the water splashes against his neck as she rides him and he lets her. He don't ever need to go out to the 'verse again to see the stars – he's holdin' one in his arms.

He ain't sure who saw them leavin' the bath house together, but he figured it musta been pretty obvious to anyone who did see them what had happened in room six. His girl is drenched and her clothes are stickin' to her in ways that ain't decent and she's got her arms wrapped around his waist. He ain't sure who's supportin' who as they slowly make it back to Serenity together, all he knows is she's really his and he ain't ever lettin' her go. He wishes they had a bath on board Serenity. He decides six is his new favorite number.

His Ma wakes 'em both when she enters his room and points a gun at his head. "Get up, boy."

"Ma?" he mutters sleepily. "That you?"

River stirs against his chest and sits up. "Ma," she greets. "This girl will go and get ready."

"You do that, sweetheart," his Ma replies kindly. "Your girl friends is waitin' for ya back at the house."

"Huh?" Jayne grumbles. "What's goin' on?"

"The whole town is talkin' 'bout ya, that's what," his Ma replies. "Think space has gone and loosened your morals, some. The bath house, Jayne?"

Jayne blinks and sits up with a moan, eyein' his Ma and her gun uneasily before he notices the ugly suit she's holdin' draped over her other arm.

"What's goin' on?" he asks again, suspiciously.

"Why, darlin' boy," his Ma replies, "seems you're gettin' married."

The entire crew is standin' up for them at the front 'a the church, 'ceptin' River and the Doc. Jayne glares at Mal when the man smirks at him, but he don't say nothin'.. His Ma sits in the front pew but keeps her gun out, pointed at him the whole time.

Someone starts playin' the piano. River is glidin' down the aisle towards him, wrapped in white silk. Simon is escortin' her, wearin' one 'a his fancy vests and shirts. Jayne feels like he's been sucker punched when the younger man smiles at him almost as brightly as his sister is.

She is so beautiful and perfect and his breath catches in the back 'a his throat. He's seein' stars again, and if it weren't for Mal placin' a steadyin' hand under his elbow he thinks he mighta keeled over.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" the preacher asks.

"I do," Simon says strongly, squeezin' Jayne's hand when he places River's dainty one inta it, "and I couldn't give her to a better man."

His Crazy-girl is leanin' inta him. The music is finished now and the church is silent, 'ceptin' the sound 'a his Ma cryin' against his father's chest. The gun ain't pointed in his general direction no more, but he finds he don't care: his Crazy-girl is leanin' inta him.

"You wanna do this, baby?" he whispers as he draws her more firmly against his side.

She nods and Jayne feels like someone just done squeezed his heart. He smiles so wide he thinks the top 'a his head might just fall off the back 'a his head as if it's on a hinge and he lets out a whoop.

"What are we waitin' for then?" he hollers. "Jayne Cobb is gettin'' married!"


End file.
